Cinderella and the Dark Place
by bStormhands
Summary: We are told that Cinderella was happy all the time, but what if she wasn't?


Cinderella and the Dark Place

* * *

"Oh, Monsieur Gusteau, what am I to do?" Lady Ella stumbled into the spotless kitchen carrying her clothes, and a pair of pictures of her parents.

"What is going on Lady Ella?" asked the heavy set chef. He was jumpy, ever since the Master had died that Lady had been lording it over everyone. He had had a bad feeling about her ever since the Master has brought her to the manor.

"Stepmother needed to give my room to Drizella so she didn't have to sleep with her sister anymore." Ella didn't know how to feel. Stepmother had given Drizella her room, because she was growing up. Her room had been her refuge and now it was her stepsisters. Drizella had thrown all of Ella's things into the hallway then taken her things from the room she had shared with Anastasia into what had been Ella's room.

"Oh, um. Where will you sleep then?" he asked carefully. He was getting angry but that was never helpful, he was just a chef.

"I don't know."

"Do you want the butler's quarters?" That Lady had released the butler not long ago, and Lady Ella was doing his work on top of the work of the maid. It drove him crazy, the girl's father had died only months before and yet that Lady was working the Master's child so hard. She was only 9 years old.

"No. I am a lady. I shouldn't sleep in the servant quarters." It didn't feel right to take one of the servant quarters. Father always told her she was a lady. At least, she was supposed to be, she didn't feel like one with all the chores she had to do.

"Very well, but there is still the issue where you will sleep?"

The girl was thinking. "Oh, I know. The tower. That has a nice room at the top, and I would see the palace and I'd be even higher in the manor then them." Ella said brightly.

"That is a good idea. Well done." he said out loud but the tower meant long trips up and down stairs and it wasn't really finished.

"They are going out to get new dresses to celebrate." Said Lady Ella, a little wistfully.

"Of course they are." Julius Gusteau grumbled. They spent money easily enough, but earning it seemed beyond them. The rents the land and chattels provided were substantial but that Lady was stingy about paying him and made him count the household money twice and return the change.

"However, m'lady, now would be a good time to get the tower setup for your room. Take you things up and see what is needed, there may be some useful things in the barn that you might use." He wasn't sure that the tower was furnished, he didn't like to climb stairs too much, but there were some old, worn-out pieces in the barn, they weren't in great shape but serviceable.

Soon they had brought up a few things to make it more comfortable, including a small vanity with a cracked green marble top, and a beautiful partition.

"Isn't the view just dreamy?" asked Lady Ella, leaning out the window to peer at the castle. "Look a bird's nest up there."

"It is," said the chef as he eased his bulk onto the chest he had just brought up. It contained several mementos of Lady Ella's mother, including the pink dress she wore at her wedding. She had been a fine, beautiful woman with a fine voice.

Lady Ella's clear young voice had sung a tune that made cleaning the tower so much easier, just like her mother's.

"They say such mean things to me," said Lady Ella after a quiet moment.

"Don't let that worry you. Tell them that 'Sticks and stones may break my bones; but words can never hurt me.'" He tried to encourage her.

"Okay." Lady Ella said quietly, but thought to herself, the words did hurt, so much. Was she different from everyone else? Didn't anyone else feel bad because of words?

"Lady Ella, dear." Said the cook as he noticed the young lady singing beautifully as she replaced candles in the bedroom hallway.

"Yes, Monsieur Gusteau." Replied the young blonde girl.

"It seems that I have made a grievous error, and Lady Tremaine has ended my service with you." It had been a year since the Master died and that lady was making such a mess of things.

"I'm so sorry. When I am lady of the manor I will gladly bring you back."

Julius' heart clenched. He didn't believe that day would ever come to this girl.

"Come child...lady. I can do a few little things before I go. Meet me in the kitchen as soon as you are done with the candles." He knew she had already worked out the most efficient route for changing the candles and she had a few spare minutes in her day. He hurried his bulk downstairs and quickly whipped together a batter, poured it into cups and set them before the fire.

He pulled out pen and paper and wrote out an easy menu for Lady Ella for the next two weeks. Then a number of shortcuts that would make her life as easy as he could manage.

Lady Tremaine was already working the dear child hard, she had already let the rest of the staff go. Julius shook his head on his thick neck, how the girl was able to keep up with the work of two others was incredible. He knew that Lady Tremaine would add his work to the girl's duties. Julius slapped his thigh, he should not have taught her how to cook, but he had gotten sick. Now there would be no one here for her.

Lady Ella was the true heir to the manor but she was only 13 and Lady Tremaine had married the girl's father. He was a sweet man, though Julius wondered what the Baron had seen in her. That Lady had been sweet as honey when the Baron was around, but she was nasty when he wasn't.

He never really liked that Lady. Nor did he like her daughter's, they also had terrible cruelty in them. They called Lady Ella, Cinderella, because she had once fallen asleep in front of the fire after being worked to exhaustion during the harvest.

He heard the clatter of shoes on the stairs, a pause and then more measured steps. Sounded like she lost her shoe again.

"You wanted to see me?" asked Ella.

"Yes, Lady Ella. I am sure that they will be expecting you to do the cooking now. I'm sorry. I have left you menus to help you. These are recipes that can cook during the day or be cooked as needed. They are easy and are ones you can do."

"Thank you." said the blue eyed girl. "I will miss you." She said hugging him.

"And I will miss you too. Your father was a good man, and you are a good girl. I hope someday this manor will be yours again. You are worthy of it."

"Thank you. I'll try really hard."

"I know you will, m'lady. I am sure you will find a way to make even them like you. Here, I have something for you. An early birthday present." He went to the hearth and carefully picked up the cups. Holding one with a towel and handing her a spoon, they quietly ate the cup cakes together.

Soon he had packed up his few things and was at the door with Lady Ella. He knelt before her and took her in his chubby arms. "If you need anything, anything at all. Come to me. I'll take care of you."

"Thank you, but I'll be alright. This is my home."

"Yes. Yes, it is. You are a good girl and I am proud of you." He said, but he was sad inside. For he was certain the manor would never be hers again, not with the cruel greed of the Tremaines inside it. He stood and walked away, never to return.

Ella trudged up the long staircase with the last breakfast tray. It was all so heavy. She carried them up from the kitchen one by one as fast as she could go. At least she haven't dropped any of them.

Her step-sisters had broken a few things and it hurt. Her step-sisters would break her things like the tea service but even stepmother put a stop to that. There wasn't as much money coming in any more. Stepmother wasn't very good at managing the manor and she wouldn't listen to Ella when she tried to explain the things Father had done.

She served Step-mother first, who didn't even acknowledge her. Stepmother tended to stay in bed most mornings and wouldn't even come out of her room until afternoon.

Then she brought up the trays for her step-sisters. They started singing off-key, "Cinderella, Cinderella. Soot on her clothes, soot in her hair, what a messy girl is she."

The lack of rhyme or rhythm in their made-up song made her stomach twist slightly for the badness of it. It used to make her want to throw up, now she was getting used to it. Her heart was filled with an empty greyness where nothing really matter.

Her step-sisters had started teasing her and calling her Cinderella after she brought them breakfast covered in cinders because she had fell asleep at the hearth after harvesting the garden. Those words hurt so much, she tried to not let them hurt, but turning off her heart was so hard. She hadn't sung in months or was it years? She missed it a little, but she couldn't think of any reason to sing.

Ella returned to Step-mother's room and listened to her orders for the day. It was the usual stuff and Ella trudged back down the stairs and fed the animals with Bruno. Then she started on lunch after retrieving the breakfast trays, eating the leftover food for her own breakfast.

She went through the motions of another day. Cooking, cleaning, gardening and all the rest, but there was no rest for her. Another grey day of drudgery passed in a dark miasma. She was so tired. There were so many chores, and too many were not getting done. The kitchen was getting a little messy in the corners, and she really needed to take a day to clean out the hearth, but there was never a break from the usual chores stepmother set her. Stepmother never listened to her.

Ella pushed a stray hair behind her ear then wiped her soot-stained fingers on her towel. She was so tired, she hadn't been able to care for herself properly for days, climbing to her bed at the top of the tower and flopping into her bed was all she could do most days it seemed like.

Cinderella carefully balanced the dinner trays into the kitchen, but her arms were shaking from the effort. She got them down without breaking anything and she was so grateful. She didn't like breaking her things.

After a few breathes, she stuffed a leftover roll into her mouth to calm her stomach. She was so hungry, having had only a few small tastes of food since breakfast.

Cinderella washed the dinner dishes and carefully set them to dry. Her hands were shaking a bit and so she had to be careful not to drop any of her china. The manor might be hers but she didn't control any of it. She tried so hard to take good care of everything but it was getting so hard. She was so tired all the time now. The list of chores was endless, and she never reached the bottom of the chores. Cooking, cleaning, caring for the animals and the garden, and all the rest.

Cinderella mixed the dough for the breakfast rolls. The worst part was she had turned 15 yesterday, and no one had acknowledged it. She felt so alone. She had no friends, her step-sisters hated her, and she didn't know why. Why didn't stepmother love her like papa did?

Cinderella knelt before the fire and banked the coals so she could keep the fire going all night, but she found that she couldn't rise again. The thought of climbing all those stairs to her room in the tower was too much.

Step-mother had let go the butler and the maid and finally the cook. Cinderella did it all now, but so often she had found herself here before the fire. The last chore of the night, too tired to climb to her bed.

She didn't care anymore. She did her duties so she wouldn't be punished, because it was easier. She didn't fight, because she didn't care anymore. She didn't run away, because she didn't care anymore. She did things out of habit, because she didn't care anymore.

Bruno trotted over and gave her face a lick. Her one true friend was the dog that father had given her.

"Oh Bruno. What am I going to do? I'm so tired all the time. I can't keep up with it all. I'm losing myself. I'm supposed to be a lady but I don't know how. Step-mother won't teach me. Why doesn't anyone love me any more? Why am I a bad girl? Why did I do all this?" She felt an empty greyness all around her all the time now. She didn't feel much of anything anymore either. In some ways that made life easier, but part of her was scared.

Cinderella hugged Bruno and then they curled up together on the rug before the fire to stay warm.

Cinderella was kneeling by the marker to her parents grave in the back garden of the manor.

Her hair unkempt, and she was covered in black soot from the fireplace save for two tracks of tears on her cheeks which she didn't bother to wipe away.

"Why?

"Why am I in hell?

"Why am I hurting so much?

"Why is nothing going right?

"You left me.

"Why did you leave?

"Didn't you love me?

"Why did you leave me all alone with that horrible woman and her brats?

"I hate them.

"I hate you!

"I hate me!

"I hate being dirty!

"I hate being tired!

"I hate everything!" she sobbed as she clung to the tombstone and wept her heart to emptiness.

"I can't do it anymore. I don't care anymore. I need help. Someone, anyone please help me." Ella wept at the grave of her parents as birds chirped above her.

Stepmother and her stepsisters were even worse today then normal. Of course being her 16th birthday it made a certain kind of twisted sense. They had slapped her and berated her. She didn't feel anything at the terrible words they said to her anymore. But all she felt was a dark blackness around her all the time like the soot and cinders tht seemed to cover her all the time now.

Stepmother and her daughters were going to a ball at the house of some minor noble across town. She'd had to change from her dirty, ill-fitting clothes and wash her arms so as not to spoil the pretty dresses Stepmother had gotten them.

Of course, Cinderella had to stay home. Her clothes barely fit her developing body and she was just too dirty. It didn't matter balls were dull and boring and she hated them. They might have been wonderful when she was a child but she wasn't a child any more.

"I don't want to live anymore. Please, can't I be with you? Can't you take me too? Please, help me." Ella begged.

She fell over and writhed in pain of her heart.

Soon a voice came to her, a high whistling voice. "Cinderella, what's wrong?"

"I can't do it any more. I'm so tired. No one loves me, not even me. I want to die, but I don't care enough to do anything about it."

"Please, don't." Came the odd little voice.

Cinderella lifted her head and wiped her eyes. She looked around but there was no one there. There was a bluebird on the marker. She twisted around, still no one around her.

"Who's there?"

"I am," said the little bird.

Cinderella looked at the bird. "Did you say that?"

"Yes."

She stood and stepped closer to the marker. "You...are talking to me."

"Yes," and the bird jumped to the side.

Cinderella started to laugh hysterically, she was laughing so hard she fell to the ground again. The bird just watches as the girl is leaning against the marker with tears streaming down her face.

"This!?" shouted Cinderella as she flopped onto her back and looked into the sky.

"My life is a shambles and they are all but killing me. I can't take it anymore. I need help. I have no friends. I no longer want to live and now all I get is this!?" Cinderella is shouting at the sky. The bird flutters to a branch a little further away from the screaming girl.

"You don't like me?" asked the little blue bird.

Cinderella's heart melted seeing the sadness in those little eyes. A small ember of love was still alive under all the ashes of her heart and now it was glowing, small and bright.

"I love birds but I just was expecting something ...different."

"Like what?"

"I don't know."

"Can I be your friend?"

"Sure, why not?" she threw up her hands, giving into the insanity of the situation. She had heard stories of people being able to talk to animals. Why she suddenly had the gift she didn't really understand but she accepted it. It felt good and right.

She held out her hand to the little blue bird and he jumped to her finger.

"It's going to be alright."

"Are you sure?" Cinderella asked, she was frightened but it felt like the sun was coming up in her heart.

"Yes. I like you." He piped.

"I like you too." And for the first time in years Cinderella smiled.

"Good. Look, there is the rest of my family," said the little blue bird. They swooped down to say hello to the young woman.

"Hello. Hello, all of you." Cinderella was smiling as she received love and encouragement from the little birds flying around her. "Dear, there do seem to be a lot of you. I think I have to find a way to tell you apart."

* * *

Author's Note: I needed a sympathetic character for Cinderella to interact with but not the mice or birds yet, so I used Chef August Gusteau's grand grandfather to do it.

I haven't been much of a fan of Cinderella. Not that she is a bad person or princess or anything like that. I'm just not able to be happy all the time like she is, especially after being worked hard and bullied for most of her life. I know what the bullying did to me, how could she survive all that alone so well. Maybe she didn't; what if she went through her own dark place and then found a happy place inside her so she could handle everything she was going through. That is something I could relate to. Maybe you can too.


End file.
